Catching a Butterfly
by Madrigal-in-training
Summary: "It could all be traced to the discovery of Pettigrew's betrayal. When the horrified Potters learned of their former friend's cowardice, they immediately became paranoid and closed ranks." Harry and siblings were raised safely in Potter Manor. He's not the BWL, but still gets involved in the drama, esp. when a certain Neville Longbottom catches his eye. JP/LE/SS RL/SB HP/NL Yaoi


"The Wizarding World is a place shrouded in secrets and encased within riddles," Dumbledore mused, "And no family reflects this more truly than the Potter-Blacks." The aged Headmaster was reclining against his seat, as he did every year, and contemplating the latest batch of students that would attend this fine institution of magic. This year would prove to be particularly interesting, the distinguished wizard assumed, as not only was the Boy-Who-Lived, Neville Longbottom, attending, but so was Harrison James Potter-Black, a member of Wizarding Britain's most secretive family.

There were, of course, many reclusive wizards and witches in England, but the Potter-Blacks were of particular interest to him. Harrison James was the other candidate for Trelawney's prophecy, and, to be entirely honest, Dumbledore had assumed that little Harrison would have been the one to assume the mantle of Boy-Who-Lived. The Potters were descended from the line of Gryffindor and Harrison was a halfblood, so Albus had hypothesized that Voldemort would find a greater interest in him. He had apparently mistaken the lengths to which Tom Riddle would mentally deny his own Half-Blood heritage, and viciously attack Neville, who, although not a descendant of a Founder, was certainly a Pureblood.

That was not the only issue that Dumbledore had not foreseen. The venerable Headmaster would never have thought what effects the war would have on the Marauders, Severus, or Lily. It could all be traced to the discovery of Peter Pettigrew's betrayal. When the horrified Potters learned of their former friend's cowardice, they immediately became paranoid and closed ranks. Admitted into that exclusive group was a furious Sirius Black, a distraught Remus Lupin, and, much to the Marauders dismay at the time, a stricken Severus Snape. At the root of this all was Lily Evans.

Brilliant, ruthless, and talented Lily, who would murder Death Eaters with just as little remorse as Mad-Eye Moody. Lily, who was probably the most powerful witch of her age, and stood beside her Pureblood husband as nothing less than an equal. Lily, who was intelligent enough to gain two Masteries, cunning enough to escape Voldemort three times, and kind enough to gain the approval of James mother, the notoriously difficult to please Dorea Potter nee Black. Lily, who fiercely loved her family, and who had her family love her back just as much.

It was that love that somehow convinced the Marauders and Severus to bury the hatchet, and hide away from the rest of the Wizarding World. Although Albus had tried to convince her otherwise, Lily had withdrawn all four of the men, along with herself, out of the Order of Phoenix and ordered them all to live inside the expansive grounds of the extremely well-warded Potter Manor.

They hadn't completely avoided the Wizarding World, as James and Sirius both joined the Auror Corps. while Severus had taken up his offer to work at Hogwarts as the resident Potions Master. Still, he had not seen hide nor hair of Remus Lupin, Lily Evans, or little Harrison, since the day that the Manor's wards were activated. Sirius Black, an infamous womanizer, suddenly seemed to become celibate overnight, and James Potter, who used to wear his heart on his sleeve, became very defensive of his family's secrets. Even Severus had refused point-blank to try and talk sense into Lily, and only grudgingly allowed a few scraps of informations to slip.

Albus knew that James and Lily had three children: Harrison, Aries, and Dianthe. He knew that Remus and Sirius had fallen in love, and that the intelligent werewolf had created several Runic inventions that were sold exclusively to Gringotts. He knew that Lily had refused to let any of her children into the Wizarding World, and that their isolation had forced them to form deep loyalties to each other and to the family. He knew that all of the Potter-Black children were privately tutored by their family members, although Severus only admitted that none of the teachings involved wanded subjects. Most surprisingly, he learned that Lily had persuaded the two men in her life of her deepest wish.

James, Lily, and Severus were a happy couple, with a fourth child that would inherit the Prince family fortune. Albus personally thought that Alexander Charles Potter-Black was a delightful name.

Regardless, when Harrison arrived at Kings Cross Station, his entire family would be present to wish him goodbye, as per family tradition. This would be the first time that the entire Potter-Black Clan would be present outside of their isolated Manor.

"Yes," Dumbledore decided, "This would be a very interesting year indeed."

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Harrison James Potter, or Harry, as he liked to be called, was sitting in the Family Portrait Hall with a small sketchbook on hand. The thick, creamy pages were filled not with drawings, but with neat charcoal lettering in a smattering of languages. At the moment, the messy-haired owner of the sketchbook was showing the fruits of his labor to his great, great grandfather, Auguste Potter.

"Not bad, young man, not bad at all," the gray-haired, laughing man in the portrait said, "You'll learn Old Norse yet!"

"I know the letters are a bit crooked, grandfather, but I think it would still work," Harry insisted, not taking offense at the words, "Do you think I can invoke a circle?"

"You might want to hold off on that for a little longer," Auguste advised, pouring himself a generous helping of wine from the decanter in his painting, "It's never a good idea to experiment with two languages that have entirely different base rules unless you know both of them inside and out."

"Some might say that it's never a good idea to experiment with two languages at all," Elaine, Auguste's daughter, pointed out dryly.

"Nonsense!" Auguste boomed, "The undertaking of innovation is what drives all knowledge forward. It is the thrill of risk that-"

"Let's not encourage too much risk in the heir, eh?" William, Harry's great grandfather, remarked, "Although I am proud of you for practicing the family's skills to the extent that you have, Harrison."

"Thank you sir," Harry grinned, closing his sketchbook and placing all of his supplies away, "I hope you don't mind, but I'll have to go have breakfast now."

"Oh, of course!" Dorea, Harry's grandmother beamed, "Today will be your first year at Hogwarts, won't it?"

"Yes grandmother," Harry replied, before giving his ancestors a bow, "Good day sirs and madams." He received several approving nods and smiles in return.

"And to you as well, Harrison," Auguste answered, "Make your family proud."

Harry acknowledged the mixed blessing and order with a courteous nod, before leaving the Portrait Hall and making his way to the dining room. The Hall was his favorite part of the Manor, with its arched, sun drenched windows, veined marble tiles, and plushed, velvet seats. The twenty-four assorted Lords and Ladies were a testament to the proud and ancient family he came from, and the noble lineage that was both a great freedom and a heavy burden.

His heritage was not at the forefront of his mind though, when Harry reached the kitchen table. Harry's energy was focused, as any proper eleven year old boy's should be, on the generously laden assortment of food made for his nourishment. Joining him in this sacred act were his two brothers, ten year old Aries, and eight year old Alec. Between the three hungry boys, the large platter of pancakes didn't have a snowball's chance in hell.

As the three boys enjoyed their meal, a loud crash was heard from above them, followed by a series of muffled curses.

"Sirius," Aries identified first, with a fond quirk of the lips. "I wonder what he broke this time?"

They would get their answer soon, as the tall, grey-eyed Head of House Black stomped down the stairs not a second later. When he saw three curious faces, he smiled sheepishly.

"Hey kiddos," Sirius said affably, taking a seat next to Alec and reaching out for a pancake, "Let's keep that crash a secret between us men, okay?"

"What did you break this time?" Alec asked, matter-of-fact.

"That stupid vase of Hermes," Sirius answered, indifferently, "Have you packed your trunk, Harry?" The dark-haired boy nodded.

"Mopsy finished it last night," he reported.

"Harry! You know you're not supposed to have the house elves do all the work," Lily scolded, having heard the last sentence as she walked in. A sleepy girl with short, red hair trailed in behind her. "Good morning, Alec, Aries, Sirius."

The first two chorused back their greetings, while the latter waved and returned to breakfast.

Interestingly enough, of the four children Lily gave birth to, all of them had her beautiful emerald green eyes, despite the usually recessive nature of the color. Lily had hypothesized that her internal magic had changed the colors of their irises in her womb in response to her own desire to pass on a significant facial feature to her children. She had grown up with comments as to how striking her eyes were, and her magic had most likely selected this feature as to the one she biologically passed on. It wasn't a particularly important theory, but it had been recorded into a family research journal nonetheless.

After all, you never know what tidbit of information your future descendants might require.

"Sorry mom, I just wanted more time to practice runes before I went to bed," Harry apologized, "I can't wait to see what they'll teach us at Hogwarts!"

"They don't teach you runes until third year, Harry," Sirius said, startled, "I thought you already knew that. It's an elective class."

"An elective!" Aries shouted, stunned, "But it's so useful! Shouldn't they make runes a required part of the curriculum?"

"You know that because you grew up with two Runes Masters, sweetheart," Lily chuckled, using her wand to activate one of the Runes inscribed on the wall. The light in the room was sucked away, but another small tap had the spherical balls of electricity hovering inside of the light fixtures again. "Most people don't use Runes as often as Remus or James."

"What about Arithmancy?" Alec asked, worried, "Is that an elective too?"

Sirius nodded, and all four of the children in the table slumped, even Harry who had been pants at the subject. "It's not that bad, guys. Potions is still a required class." That earned the dog animagus slightly less somber faces, but the children were still unsatisfied.

"What's with all of the sad faces?" Remus asked, as the other three members of their large family drifted into the dining room, "I would have thought that you would be excited to be going to Hogwarts, Harry."

"Father, Uncle Sirius said that Ancient Runes and Arithmancy are both elective classes," Dianthe complained, looking at Severus beseechingly, "Is that true?" When the dark haired man nodded, there were four simultaneous groans from the table.

"Oh Merlin, we must have forgotten to tell you that some of the subjects you learned at home aren't offered until later, or even not at all, at Hogwarts," Lily said, embarrassed, "I can see why that might be a disappointment." Sirius seemed to find it humorous instead.

"Can you believe it Moony?" Sirius smirked, "Our precocious pups are complaining about not having access to some of the most difficult magic available in school until third year. All of the Marauders heirs are intellectual snobs!"

"I'm blaming you for this, Sev," James laughed as well, as he playfully glared at the Potions Master, "Those Potions and Arithmancy lessons corrupted our children!"

"Oh, and who taught them about runes Mr. My-Family-Specializes-In-Wards?" Severus drawled. James grinned, unrepentantly. Lily watched the entire scene with a smile on her face.

"What about Care of Magical Creatures?" Dianthe interrupted them, hopefully. Remus shook his head, and the redhead resorted to taking out her ire on her deliciously buttery waffles.

"We can complain about the Hogwarts curriculum later," Remus interrupted, after a good five minutes of lighthearted bickering, "We have to leave for the train in half an hour. Is everyone ready? Has everyone eaten?"

It took exactly twenty-seven minutes for Remus and Lily to gather, clothe, and feed their six children (and Severus). It was a chaotic morning as Alec and Dianthe complained about their brother leaving for Hogwarts, Aries demanded to go along with him, Harry ran around gathering his study books as he realized that Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, and Ancient Runes weren't offered until third year, and Lily fretted about sending her baby off to Hogwarts. It was only the Hogwarts wards, and Severus' promise to keep an eye on their son that kept Lily from continuing to barricade her children behind Potter Manor's formidable defenses.

At exactly a quarter til nine, each of the adults in the house grabbed either a child or Harry's trunk and apparated to the bustling Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters.

"Wow," Aries breathed, as a tearful Lily drew Harry into a hug, "This is even more crowded than Diagon Alley." Besides him Dianthe slowly nodded, as the most reticent of the Potter-Black children, Alec, reverted to his default mode of shy. Dianthe was the complete opposite as she gazed around wide-eyed, absorbing the scarlet steam train and colorful robes.

"I guess this is finally it," Harry gulped, giving his father, dad, godfather, and Uncle Remus hugs, "I'm going to Hogwarts."

"I don't want him to go," Dianthe, who at five years old was already the spitting image of her mother, cried, "We won't see him again for months!"

"Besides, Hogwarts is stupid," Aries declared, apparently having given up on his crusade to join his brother a year early, "It doesn't have Arithmancy or Ancient Runes or Care of Magical Creatures until third year, and Father said that History and DADA are both jokes."

"He'll still come home for winter break," Alec reminded his siblings, and looked over at his oldest brother worryingly, "Won't you?"

"Well I can't miss Mopsy's new years roast, can I?" Harry smiled, and hugged the dark-haired boy. Unlike Aries and Dianthe, who both had the dark auburn hair of their mother, Harry and Alec had raven coloured hair.

"You have the mirror, so there's no excuse not to call every night," Aries ordered, "Remember to continue family tradition-"

"And explore Hogwarts famous library," Alec asserted.

"And talk Hagrid into letting you keep one of his baby thestrals," Dianthe added, excitedly.

"Don't you think we have enough monst- ahem, animals at the Manor already?" Remus said, exasperatedly. Dianthe pouted in answer.

"A stable full of purebred horses, an acromantula gifted from Hagrid, half a dozen magical snakes, two normal cats, a kneazle, a crup, two owls, and a few porlocks," Sirius listed, with a cheeky grin, "Those are just the normal household 'pets' though, not accounting for any animals in the Menagerie. No, I think we can still fit in some more."

"Let's not forget Padfoot," James said, "Although we might need to get a replacement soon. He's really getting on in age, isn't he?"

"I think you're right about that," Remus agreed, to which Sirius immediately and tearfully accused the werewolf of treachery.

"And people wonder why all my patience is exhausted by the time I arrive at school," Severus muttered, briefly pinching the bridge of his nose, before grabbing Harry's hand in one hand and his trunk with the other, and dragging him towards the train, "I'll be apparating to school, but after that, you can always find me in my off-hours in the dungeon. If you need any help, then don't be afraid to visit."

"Okay," Harry allowed, knowing that this was his father's indirect way of saying that he cared. At the corner of his eye, Harry noticed the large amount of people, both students and adults, who had stopped to gape at his father as he placed a feather-light charm on Harry's trunk. "Father, will you mind if I don't become a Slytherin?"

Severus paused, and bent down to his knees. He looked into Harry's emerald eyes searchingly, and seemed to have found what he was looking for, because he smiled. Harry heard multiple gasps from around them, but his father was hardly paying them any mind, so neither did he.

"Harrison James Potter-Black," Severus said quietly, "You were named after your great-grandfather and your father. One of them was a Slytherin, and the other was a Gryffindor, but none of that information matters, and do you know why? It's because you're your own person, and I love you for just being my little Harry. I know James and Lily feel the exact same way, so no matter if you're a snake, or a lion, or a raven, or a badger, it won't matter. You're still Harry."

"Thank you," Harry said, just as softly, as he gave into his impulse and spontaneously hugged his father, "I'll miss you."

"Silly brat," Severus said, affectionately, "I'm a teacher at Hogwarts."

"It still won't be the same," Harry answered, as he gave his father a cheeky grin and grabbed his school trunk, "I'll see you later." He turned to give the rest of his family a little wave, then walked inside of the train. It did not take long before he found a small, empty compartment and placed his trunk under his seat. He had not even made himself comfortable for five minutes before he received his first visitors.

"Well, well, well Forge, if it isn't the brave squirt who just hugged our Professor Snape," one grinning, freckled redhead said to another.

"Indeed, and who is this mysterious maker of mischief?" his twin answered, looking Harry over carefully, "Severus Snape Junior is it?"

"Harry James Potter-Black, scion of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter," Harry introduced himself automatically, before his eyes widened and he recognized the twins, "Son of Prongs at your service. Do I have the honor of meeting the Hellions of Hellfire, the Troubadours of Trouble, the one and mercifully only Infamous Weasley Duo?"

"Son of Prongs," Forge yelped, widening his eyes, "You're the Son of a Marauder! But why were you hugging Snape?"

"He's my father," Harry informed the two, smirking internally as the twins paled when they arrived to the wrong conclusion.

"Snape used to be Prongs," the unnamed twin looked faintly green, which clashed horribly with his bright red hair, "The resident Potions Master is one of our heroes?"

"No, that's my Dad, James Potter," Harry answered cheerfully, "And before you ask, I am not adopted. Father and Dad both married my mother, Lily Evans."

"You know, Gred," Forge began, promptly taking a seat across from Harry, "I never thought that Professor Snape, out of all of the Professors, would be the one involved in a threesome."

"I still haven't absorbed the fact that he's married, dear brother mine," Gred commented, throwing an arm around Harry's shoulder. "Still, at least we've figured out why Professor Snape leaves the castle during weekends. So, squirt, do you know any of the other Marauders?"

"Sirius Black, my godfather, is an Auror, along with Dad," Harry explained, "He's Padfoot. My Uncle Remus is Moony. He makes magical gadgets for a living."

"And Wormtail?" Forge asked eagerly. Harry frowned.

"He's a filthy, conniving, cowardly little rat who sold out my parent's location to Voldemort," Harry growled, "If my father hadn't discovered the dark mark on his arm, than my entire family could have been killed."

"Sorry, mate," Gred apologized, "We didn't mean to bring up bad memories." The twins exchanged significant looks, before the one opposite Harry nodded. Forge reluctantly pulled a folded piece of old parchment from inside of his robes.

"The Marauders Map!" Harry exclaimed, and Gred nodded.

"Yeah, it's technically yours, so I 'spose you might like to have it back," Fred said, reluctantly, holding out the paper.

"No thanks," Harry said, taking out a parchment of his own from inside of his trunk, "I have the new and improved version."

Harry tapped his new ivy and crushed basilisk fang wand against the parchment and intoned, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." A replica of the old map appeared with dark ink, from where Harry's wand had tapped the paper, but it didn't just stop at the castle. The map expanded until it included several meters of the Forbidden Forest, the entirety of Hogsmeade, and the Black Lake.

"Severus Snape," Harry said clearly, and map zoomed into the dungeons where a small gold dot had the name 'Severus Snape' on it.

"Wicked," Gred breathed, looking at Harry in permission. When the first year nodded, the twins held the map and looked it over in wonder.

"This would have been so useful," Fred commented, as he used his wand to move the focus from Severus Snape to Hogsmeade, "I wish our map had these features."

"I can add them if you'd like?" Harry offered, "My uncle taught me the runes required and I can use the basic Arithmetic formula."

"You'd do that for us? Thank you!" Gred beamed, handing over their own map without a thought, "How long will it take you?"

"A week, but most of that time will be spent brewing a stasis potion to soak the map in," Harry promised, "You can pick it up in a week." The Weasley twins thanked him again, and then left to go find their friend Lee Jordan. Harry settled back in his seat, a Potions book in hand, and began to read.

He was in the second chapter of his book, when another person opened the door to his compartment. It was another first-year with bushy brown hair.

"Hello," she began awkwardly, "My name is Hermione Granger. All the other compartments are full, so may I sit here?" She fidgeted slightly as Harry's emerald eyes looked her over. They were a good fifteen minutes into the train ride, and the girl looked a bit harassed. No doubt, she had found a perfectly good compartment, but was thrown out because of her clearly Muggleborn origins.

"Sure," Harry nodded, standing up, "Would you like some help with your trunk?" The girl nodded in relief, and Harry helped her pull her trunk onto the luggage rack. Unlike his, Hermione's trunk didn't have a feather-light charm, so it was really quite heavy.

"My name's Harry Potter," Harry held his hand out, "It's nice to meet you. Are you a Muggleborn?"

Not that there was any doubt where he was concerned, but Harry always did hate leaving any margin for error.

Hermione frowned, not taking his hand. "Why? Does it matter?"

Harry mentally patted himself on the back for his on the spot deductions.

"Not really," Harry lied, bringing his hand down. He had, in fact, been hoping to come across a Muggleborn. "Some people think that it makes you inferior, but my family's not like that. My mother's a Muggleborn."

Hermione relaxed, and gave him a nervous smile. "Oh, I'm sorry then. I'm a Muggleborn too, so I never learned anything about magic until my acceptance letter came. My entire family's dentists, you see, so it was quite a surprise when Professor McGonagall took me to Diagon Alley to get my supplies. I've read all of the course books, of course, and memorized them by heart. I only hope that it's enough."

She managed to say all of that in one, hurried breath.

Harry tried to understand all of that. She was brilliant, yet insecure. In a way, she almost reminded him of his brother, Alec. On the spot, Harry decided that he liked her.

"Well, I think that you're a lot more prepared than most of the other kids," he commented, "I don't think anyone else tried to memorize their coursebooks by heart."

"But what about all of those Pureblood and Half-blood students who get to learn all of that magic before Hogwarts?" Hermione fretted.

"They may have cast one or two spells with their parent's wand," Harry allowed, "But even they can't receive wands until they're eleven. Almost all of the students are more or less on equal footing. Blood doesn't really matter when it comes to magic. My mother is a Muggleborn, but she is just as capable as my Father, who is a Halfblood, and my Dad, who is a Pureblood."

Hermione seemed to be very reassured by that because she smiled at him brightly, "Oh, so you have a stepfather?" Damn, and it was going so well too.

"No," Harry said, inwardly sighing, "My dad and my father are both married to my mother. Polygamous relationships are allowed in the Wizarding World." Hermione, thankfully, looked more piqued by that than disgusted, which Sirius had warned Harry would happen with most of the Muggleborn and a few of the more "progressive" Half-Blood's.

"That's very interesting," she commented, "Who are your parents?"

"My Dad, James Potter, is the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, and an Auror," Harry replied, "My Father, Severus Snape, is the Potions Master at Hogwarts. He's also a member of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Prince, although he cannot inherit due to his Half-Blood status. My brother, Alec, will inherit the position at his majority."

Hermione's eyes widened. "That's fascinating," she said, "Are the Ancient and Noble Houses similar to the aristocratic families of England?"

"Yes," Harry said, putting his book away, "They're the oldest, and typically wealthiest, family lines here in England. Each House, and I believe there to be twenty-nine at last count, inherits a seat in the Wizarding Parliament, the Wizegamot. They are the magical version of the House of Lords, although they are given an exorbitant amount of power when compared to their percentage of the population."

Hermione nodded, indicating her understanding, so Harry continued, "The Wizengamot consists of fifty-two seats. There are twenty-nine seats for each of the Ancient Houses, twenty-one seats open for public vote, one seat for the Chief Warlock, Albus Dumbledore, and one seat for a Ministry Representative, which is usually some bureaucratic lackey, although if the full court is in session than the Minister will be involved. There are also several seats open for Order of Merlin, First Class winners, but they're rarely used, so you can forget about them. The Wizengamot are the legislative and judicial branches of our government. The Ministry of Magic is the Executive Branch."

"Why isn't any of this information in the pamphlets that the Muggleborn children get?" Hermione complained, "You would think that the structure of the Magical government would be necessary information."

Harry shrugged, "If it's the Ministry that wrote those pamphlets than you already have your answer. The Ministry is- and this is a typical blanket statement, mind you- corrupt, inefficient, and keeps an idiot like Fudge at the helm."

"Harry," Hermione gasped, "You can't just say that about the Minister!"

"Sorry Hermione, but this is just more of the general information that Purebloods and Half Bloods know," Harry reassured, "My father works with Dumbledore-" much to my mother's ire- "and he claims that Dumbledore even admitted that Fudge was a moron." Hermione deflated.

"Still," she complained, "You should be nicer. Haven't your parents taught you to respect your elders?"

Harry smirked, "My dad, godfather, and uncle spent most of their adolescence thumbing authority. My mom says that only competence and honor should determine if a person is worthy of respect. My father refuses to respect anyone he considers to be magically inferior to his personal standards, which consists of the majority of the Wizarding population."

Hermione wisely decided not to challenge him on that upbringing.

"Then do you know any magic?" she asked instead.

"Nothing that involves a wand," Harry said, perking up at the mention of some of his favorite subjects, and Arithmancy, "They taught me Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Magical History, and Potions. I also learned a little about Astronomy because most of the Black family is named after constellations."

"And your father is a Potions Master," Hermione mused, "What's your favorite subject?"

A smile bloomed on Harry's face as he began to introduce Hermione to the wonderful subject of Ancient Runes. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Harry was in the middle of showing Hermione his advanced runes kit, when there was a knock on the compartment door. Harry opened it to find a lady with a cart full of snacks waiting in the corridor. He looked at Hermione questioningly, but she just shook her head, so he purchased an armful for himself. In the end, Harry was short sixteen galleons and twelve sickles, but he had cleared the witch of all of her licorice wands, Blood Pops, and Drooble's bubble gum. He had also made serious hits on the sugar quills, chocolate frogs, and cauldron cakes. Not a single bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans were touched.

"Are you really going to eat all of that?" she asked incredulously, pointing at the large pile in Harry's arms.

"Of course not," Harry said, dumping the large pile on a nearby seat and opening his trunk, "They're reinforcements for the rest of the year."

He opened the lid to a spacious yet empty compartment and neatly emptied his cache inside. A few chocolate frogs and cauldron cakes were kept behind. Under Hermione's gaze, Harry closed the drawer and reached into the pocket of his robes for a set of keys. The compartment had three key slots, so he inserted his key into the middle slot and turned it. When he opened the compartment again, it had several faintly glowing symbols and a packed case.

"This is Hzel," Harry said, half laughing at Hermione's shocked face. He pointed to a half-circle rune. "It's the Sumerian symbol for 'cold'. This is Mati, the symbol for 'regulate', and Ta, the symbol for 'to remove'. If paired with Ta, than it means 'regulate by amount'. The amount of magic I pour into or siphon off this rune determines how cold the compartment drawer is."

"How did you keep two different things in the same space though?" Hermione asked, "That breaks at least two laws of physics!"

Harry smirked, "Magic." Hermione glared at him.

"Okay, okay," he held up his hands in surrender, "It's probably a mixture of space, time, and switching runes, although to be honest, I don't really understand it at present time. Still, it's a cool application of runes, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded dumbly, "I can't believe I have to be in third year before I learn these! Runes are so useful. Why doesn't everyone have trunks like these?"

"They're dead useful," Harry agreed, "But they're also very expensive. My father inscribed these runes for me. Now, for the more important question. Are you hungry?" As if on cue, Hermione's stomach growled and she gave an embarrassed nod.

"Good, so am I," Harry declared, cheerfully, "The ride to school takes hours, but the only things sold are candy and cakes. There aren't even any drinks available. Luckily, I brought lunch."

"Is there enough for both of us?" Hermione said, concerned.

"My mom packed enough for four people," Harry answered, after he checked the package, "I also have Butterbeer! And before you refuse, I should mention that the drink does not contain any actual alcohol." He handed the chilled drink over to Hermione, who smiled sheepishly and took a drink. A look of delighted surprise came over her face as she took a sip of her first butterbeer.

"This is delicious," Hermione declared, as Harry busied himself with taking out an assortment of food, "Harry, did your mother use a spell or a rune to make the food?"

"You're getting the hang of this," Harry said, giving Hermione an approving nod, "Yes, my mother used a spell to miniaturize these. She could have used a rune, but runes take more magic and skill to utilize, and so, generally aren't used for such menial tasks. Tap your wand against each container and it will enlarge."

Hermione promptly followed his orders, and much to her delight, the food did indeed grow larger. Like most Muggleborns, Harry realized, Hermione was new to this world and would find wonder in any example of magic, no matter how simple or commonplace. This newfound interest didn't apply to him because he had grown up around five strong and skilled wizards and witch.

"May I interest you in some roast chicken then?" Harry asked charmingly, as he placed generous helpings of each dish onto Hermione's plate. Along with the chicken, his mother and Mopsy added a veritable feast of grilled lobster, Shepherd's pie, cucumber slices, carrot salad, egg rolls, and treacle tart. Hermione enjoyed the fresh oranges and bananas in particular.

"This is your mother's idea of a lunch?" Hermione asked, once they had polished off the treacle tart, "I don't think I've ever had both lobster and chicken for a casual meal."

"She probably had our house elf, Mopsy, help," Harry muttered, slightly embarrassed, "Although, I admit that I wasn't aware this was odd, as I've always eaten like this."

"I thought you might since both of your fathers' are part of Ancient and Noble Houses," Hermione mused, "It is difficult to be part of two Houses?"

"Three," Harry corrected, blushing, "My godfather is the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, and is currently incapable of having heirs. I will inherit House Potter, my brother, Aries, will inherit House Black, and my other brother, Alec, will inherit House Prince."

"So your family must have a lot of political clout," Hermione deduced, "It must be fun to have siblings. I'm an only child. Do you only have two brothers?"

"No, I have a sister named Iris," Harry relaxed and continues chatting, "She's the youngest, and therefore, the luckiest. As a daughter of three Ancient Houses, she's basically set for life, without having to deal with politics and the like."

"I understand," Hermione replied, "Now what is a house elf?"

"A magical servant in a symbiotic bond with a wizarding family," Harry answered, "I'd like to explain a little more, but we'll be reaching Hogwarts soon, and you haven't changed yet. How about I wait outside the door?"

Hermione blushed and nodded, as Harry made his way out of their compartment. After she had finished, he went back inside, but they didn't talk anymore. They simply sat there in an amiable silence, waiting with excited apprehension as the train drew closer to Hogwarts. Soon it was time for them to step off and join a congregation of first years as they headed towards a giant of a man with a bushy black beard.

"Firs' years! Firs' years!" the man, whom Harry recognized as Rubeus Hagrid, shouted, waving a lantern over his head, "Come over here! No more t'an four to a boat!"

"Who is that man?" Hermione whispered to Harry, as the two stumbled over the uneven grounds, and into a boat.

"Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His mum's a giantess, but he's reputed to be rather gentle. He was expelled from Hogwarts in his third year for harboring an acromantula, so his wand's been snapped and he's not allowed to use any magic. Dumbledore kept him on as a groundskeeper, which earned him the gentle giant's everlasting loyalty. He loves dangerous animals and actually owns a Cerberus," Harry summarized, the last part of his speech containing a definite note of envy. Hermione threw him a questioning look.

"My father," Harry said, by way of explanation. He fell silent when a redhaired boy and a brown-haired girl entered their boat. It was a short ride to the castle, and Harry gasped just like everyone else when he got his first glimpse of Hogwarts. Despite all of the information and descriptions his family had given him, it just didn't compare to seeing the majestic castle all lit up with candles.

It didn't take much longer than that until all of the first years were inside of a small antechamber off the side of the Great Hall. Harry drifted towards the back the group, and Hermione, with a second's worth of hesitation, followed him. She seemed determined to stick besides him.

"I wonder what the test will be," Hermione said, looking at him pointedly, as the other first years began muttering about the mysterious sorting. One kid with scruffy robes, bright red hair, and a dirty nose claimed that they would have to fight a troll.

"It's a magical hat that uses passive legilimency to determine your character traits," Harry obliged, whispering so only Hermione could hear him. At her clear interest, he elaborated, "Legilimency is a mental art that can be used to read surface thoughts, emotions, and memories. A Master Legilimens can even implant false memories or suggestions into a person's mind to influence their actions. It's a rare skill."

At that moment, a half dozen ghosts phased through the wall, and the startled shrieks of several students, hid Hermione's horrified gasp. The bushy haired girl ignored the ghosts in favor of focusing on her knowledgeable friend.

"But that's an invasion of privacy!" Hermione was clearly distressed, "How can you protect yourself against it?"

"My entire family, barring Dianthe, is capable of utilising some form of Occlumency against it," Harry said, truthfully, "Occlumency is, among other things, the art of defending one's mind from Legilimency. Occlumens also have very well-organized minds, leading to faster recall and understanding, and a greater grasp over their emotions. My Father is a Master Occlumens, and he can create false memories to fool Legilimens. All Pureblood and some Half-Blood children are taught the basic defenses when they're young, and a few go on to improve their mental defenses."

"How can you know so much?" Hermione asked, as they fell into the back of the line and headed towards the Great Hall, "I thought you said that Muggleborns are on even footing with the rest of the students?"

"I'm more of a special case," Harry admitted, "My mother is very protective, so she insisted that I learn a few spells when I gained my wand, but that is the extent of my knowledge in spells. For Occlumency, usually all heirs and heiresses of Houses are required to learn it to some extent. Everything else I've learned is because my parents and uncles are all magically powerful and proficient in what some people refer to- usually disdainfully- as niche magics. Those people are idiots."

"Can you teach me?" Hermione whispered. Harry nodded and the girl grinned before they turned their attention to the rest of the Hall. Harry noted the other first years, the House tables, and the Sorting Hat, before his eyes turned to the raised dais where the teachers sat. Harry's emerald eyes caught the obsidian ones of his Father, and when Severus gave a slight nod of welcome, he smiled. Finally, the Sorting Hat finished its song.

Harry watched the Sorting in anticipation.

"Abbott, Hannah." Hufflepuff!

"Bones, Susan." Hufflepuff!

"Boot, Terry." Ravenclaw!

"Brown, Lavender." Gryffindor!

The Sorting Hat continued until it stopped on "Granger, Hermione." Harry squeezed his new friend's hand, and Hermione smiled at him, before she walked up the Sorting Hat and eagerly jammed it on her head. The Sorting Hat took varying times for each of the students, and it lasted a good three minutes on Hermione's bushy hair. Finally, the wide brim of its mouth opened to announce, "Gryffindor!"

Harry shot the radiant girl a thumbs up as the house clothed in red and gold burst into loud cheers. The next student, Neville Longbottom, was called. Whispers quickly filled the room.

"Longbottom, did she say?"

"The Neville Longbottom?"

Harry observed the Boy-Who-Lived as he stepped away from the dwindling group of students. Longbottom was a boy of average height with dark brown hair and a slim figure. His face was pleasant enough, Harry supposed, but not particularly striking. His eyes were determinedly turned away from anyone else's and his bangs obscured the famous lightning bolt scar that was supposedly left behind after the Killing Curse was reflected from him. All in all, Harry wouldn't have pegged him as someone special, if not for his previous knowledge of Neville's identity.

The Sorting Hat took a long time with Neville too, until it finally decided upon "Gryffindor". Longbottom received the loudest set of cheers yet, and not entirely from his own House either.

There were several more Sortings, although Harry only took note of "Malfoy, Draconis". His father's godson sat under the Hat for less than two seconds before it declared him to be a Slytherin.

It was finally his turn. "Potter, Harrison."

Harry confidently strode up to the small stool, and placed the hat over his head. It slipped past his eyes and shrouded the rest of the Great Hall under its dark brim. Harry calmly placed his hands over his lap.

"_**Hello," **_he thought, "_**My name's Harry. What's your name?"**_

"_**Alistair, young Scion**_," the Hat replied, sounding amused, "_**Tell me do you have any particular House you would prefer to be Sorted into?"**_

Harry gave a mental shrug, "_**Eh, I'm honestly okay with any of them, although I'd prefer not to be in Slytherin, because my Father is the Head of House. I'd never be able to get away with **_anything_**. He practices Legilimency on me for 'trial runs' you know."**_

"_**Your Father…? Ah, young Severus Snape was always fond of Practicals. Regardless, the House of the Snakes would not have suited you, since despite your guile and ambition, you lack the requisite ruthlessness to truly thrive there,"**_ Alistair mused, "_**Which is a pity, being as you are a Parselmouth. No other House would prize that trait as greatly as Slytherin."**_

"_**My Mum and Dad were certainly shocked when I first 'spoke' to a snake," **_Harry admitted_**, "Though I believe the majority of their ire was because of the fact that I removed a poisonous snake from a Muggle zoo and tried to smuggle it out from under my shirt."**_

"_**You and your siblings are certainly fond of deadly and rare animals**_," the Hat noted, "_**Now, unto the placement of Houses. I think I can safely cross out Ravenclaw, since gaining knowledge to fund your ambition counts as ambition, not prizing knowledge. Hufflepuff would work if it wasn't for the fact that you're only loyal to a core group of family and one friend, and not particularly fond of widening that group unless your loyalty is reciprocated. You are daring and chivalrous though- and a descendant of Gryffindor- so I think I can safely place you in-"**_

"_**Gryffindor!"**_

Harry lifted the Hat off his head, and nodded to Professor McGonagall, who gave him a small, though warm, smile in response. The green-eyed boy with the messy, black hair walked over to the cheering table draped in red and gold, and sat next to his new friend.

"I'm so glad you're in Gryffindor, with me!" Hermione confided him, giving his arm a brief squeeze. Harry gave her a grin, before the two fell silent and watched the rest of the Sorting.

The final person, Ronald Weasley, was sorted into Gryffindor, before the Headmaster stood up.

"Welcome to all of the new students arriving this year, and to our old students, welcome back!" Dumbledore said, beaming, and holding his arms open, as though nothing could have pleased him more than to see all of them sitting there, "I trust you have all had a busy summer trying to remove all of the information you learned from last year! So once again, your heads are free to accept new knowledge in the pursuit of education. Now, I expect you all to be quite hungry by now, so I have simply a few more words to say. And they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

"Is he- a bit mad?" Hermione interjected, nervously.

"Yes," Harry assured her, before anyone else could refute that statement, "He's undoubtedly one of the most brilliant wizards alive, but he is all the more certainly a 'bit' mad. Potatoes?"

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, as she noticed the platters of food that had appeared on the table, "Oh dear, after such a fulfilling lunch, I'm not entirely certain if I'm hungry enough."

"Nonsense. You'll be fine," Harry claimed, before handling her plate, "You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

Hermione gave a mute shake of her head, and once Harry had properly filled both of their plates, he sat back, and allowed the conversation to wash over him.

"I'm half and half," one classmate, Seamus Finnegan if Harry remembered correctly, claimed, "Me dad's a Muggle and me Mum's a witch. She didn't tell him until after the wedding. Bit of a nasty shock for him!"

The rest of the table laughed, as Harry suddenly stilled. "You're lucky that he took to the news so well," Harry said quietly, shaking his head, "One of the people I know had that exact situation happen to him, but his Father reacted negatively and took out his anger on his Mum and him. You're lucky your father didn't resent your mother for having magic and you, for trapping him there."

"Yeah- yeah, you're right," Seamus said, looking shaken, "I'd never- yeah, you're right."

There was an awkward silence for a few minutes, before Hermione tentatively broke it by saying, "My parents are both Muggles."

"So are mine," Dean Thomas added, smiling gratefully at her, "I was rather shocked to learn that all of those crazy things I can do were magic!"

"Mine are all magic," Ronald Weasley said, putting the knife in his hand down for a minute to grab another roll, "I'm the second youngest of seven, so I grew up with Hogwarts stories."

"So did I," Harry admitted, "My Father works at this school, actually."

"Really?" Ron looked impressed, "You're so lucky! He'll favor you for sure."

Harry grimaced. "I doubt it. He's the Potions Master, and since he's been teaching me Potions since I was a kid, he's not going to have a lot of patience for any stupid mistakes."

"The Potions Master?" Ron repeated, looking at the green-clad man warily, "I heard that he was supposed to be some terrifying professor. And a Slytherin! How do you deal with that?"

"Rather easily," Harry said dryly, "My family doesn't really care for any House prejudices. We're a fair mix of Gryffindors and Slytherins, with a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws tossed in the family tree somewhere. Though recently, Father is the only Slytherin in the house."

"I'd still rather have a Gryffindor for a parent," Ron huffed, before turning to Neville. "So how about you? You're the Boy-Who-Lived, so everyone knows you grew up with your grandmother, but it must have been cool to know you'd be a Gryffindor from day one-"

"My mother was a Hufflepuff," the brown-haired boy interrupted mildly, "And my grandmother was a Slytherin. I was actually hoping to make Ravenclaw, myself."

"I considered that house too, but Dumbledore graduated from Gryffindor, and he's supposed to be one of the best of course," Hermione began to chatter excitedly, as Ron gaped at the Longbottom heir.

The conversation continued along that vein for several minutes, though Harry didn't bother to pay much attention to it. Instead, the dark-haired Gryffindor's eyes strayed over to the staff table. His father was sitting between two formidable wizards. To his left was a half-goblin dueling champion- Professor Flitwick if Harry remembered correctly. To his right was an old man with a long, silvery beard, and that must have been their prestigious Headmaster.

Dumbledore must have felt the boy's eyes on him, because he turned to look at Harry with startlingly intense blue eyes.


End file.
